Men Will Be Boys
by nachalainne
Summary: DI Dimmock and Sally Donovan have a chat about the causes of his recently mopey attitude.


"Nice work on the Llewellyn case."

Iain looked up sharply, surprised to see Sally hovering beside his desk, stirring a cup of strawberry yoghurt. By god, that woman could move quieter than a cat when she wanted to! Clearing his throat quickly, he nodded. "Yeah...," he answered. "Yeah, thanks. Turned out alright, I guess."

"Two crims in the lock-up and a case closed?" She asked quizzically, licking her spoon. "Sounds like more than alright. What's wrong?"

Dimmock shrugged. "Just the usual post-case paperwork... why?"

And for a brief moment, he could see exactly why Lestrade waxed lyrical about Sally's detective abilities. She was smiling at him - not in the way one co-worker reassuringly smiles at another, but in the way that suggested she could read his mind like an open book, and knew without hesitation that he was being deliberately obtuse.

Thankfully, she was also caustically forward - and didn't require him to own up to his own charade. "Greg's coming back from holiday tomorrow. 'Bout time, yeah?"

Iain leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hand as he considered all the terrible things she might mean by that. "Yeah, it'll be nice to have him back in the office," he replied, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Back to bossing everyone around and being a menace."

Sally watched him struggle, and couldn't resist the smugly victorious smirk that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

It had taken her longer than she cared to admit to notice. The day after Greg had left for his holiday, Dimmock had spent all of ten minutes at his desk before getting up and leaving again - a case needed him, he'd said - and didn't return. The next day, and for several that followed, he seemed uncharacteristically sulky; he never once stopped for a nap at his desk, and politely declined Sally's offer to go out for coffee - twice.

And then there was the staring.

She'd been minding her own business, of course - just enjoying her yoghurt at her desk during her lunch break. But every so often, she noticed how Iain's head would gradually turn towards Greg's office. At first it was just a glance - just a brief look at the empty chair, and then back to his desk. But as the hour wore on, the looks got longer. He went from furtive glances to an extended, puppy-like stare at the vacant, darkened room, and then Sally knew. She knew and she wondered - having worked with the young DI for so long - how the hell she could have missed it.

His dismay was all the confirmation she needed. She seized the opportunity.

"Let's go for a walk."

Iain looked up, over his hand. "Sorry?"

Sally dropped her yoghurt in the bin next to his desk. "You. Me. Out for a walk." It wasn't a suggestion.

And theoretically, he could have refused. He was higher up in the chain of command than she was, and going out now - at the tail end of her lunch hour - wasn't exactly ethical. Realistically, however, she was going to haul him out of the building no matter what.

He nodded. She smiled - the cheery, reassuring kind - and went to fetch their coats. Iain stared down at his desk, wondering briefly if it might be better to run for it. She'd know he was guilty, but that's all she'd know - and he wouldn't have to answer every embarrassing question she put to him.

But Sally was back before he had a chance to move. Feeling resigned and thwarted, he took his jacket and followed her to the stairs. Neither of them were accustomed to taking the lift, thanks to their Luddite friend. Greg had grown up in a run-down, shabby apartment complex whose one elevator had plummeted into the basement some twenty years before he was born. He'd never had a chance to use it, and frankly - he didn't mind. A small box on a string was not his idea of safe travel, regardless of how much science Anderson threw at him. He'd taken the stairs all his life, and unless their division was relocated to the top floor, he wasn't going to change. Where the boss walked - his workers followed.

It took them ten minutes (the last ten of Sally's lunch hour, incidentally) to get off their floor and out of the building. Neither of them spoke - but unlike the awkward silences that would usually accompany that kind of frank, unwanted discussion, it wasn't uncomfortable. Iain gradually realised - to his embarrassment - that Sally wasn't going to push him for answers until he owned up to it. She might be blunt and a little sarcastic, but she was fair when it came to her friends. She'd given him a setting and an opportunity to open up - but it was up to him to actually do it.

"Four months," he admitted with a sigh.

"Until?"

"Since I realised I-... like him."

They turned the corner and walked towards the Yarders' favourite chip shop.

"And you haven't told him?"

Dimmock shot her an offended frown. "Of course not."

"And why's that?"

"Because! He's the boss, Sally."

"He's not your boss."

"...no. But he is senior to me, and that's just as awkward."

Sally rolled her eyes. It was bad enough that Greg was so obstinate about his sexuality at the office. Iain wasn't - to be fair - but she wasn't sure she could handle both of them being so bloody secretive. She was an open-minded, free-spirited kind of woman. All this deception just set her teeth on edge.

She steered the conversation to more optimistic waters. "When'd you realise it?"

Iain looked up. He'd been shuffling along awkwardly, eyes focused on the ground until Sally spoke. "Sorry?"

"When did you know that you liked him?"

It took him a moment to answer, but when he did, he smiled slightly. "It was pretty obvious, actually." He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and looked up at the busy streets ahead of them. "You know how in primary school, the young boys would sometimes pick on the prettiest girls? When you get older, you look back on it, and you realise that he didn't pull your pig tails because he hated you - he did it because he wanted your attention."

Sally nodded, not quite sure where he was going with the story.

"Because how else do you expect a kid to express himself when he doesn't even know what a crush is, you know? There's this girl - she's very pretty, but I'm too young to understand that. I'm going to put worms down her back, and pull her hair and do other boy things instead - because that's what I know how to do. And when you get older, you realise - well, that little boy had a crush on you. Even if he was a stupid jerk for putting a worm in your dress."

She laughed. "And you're the... stupid- oh. I get it, because of the pranks."

Iain nodded. "Not that I'm a pretty girl or anything, but he does harass me quite a lot more than he does anyone else in the office. And-" he cut her off before she could contest him, "I refuse to believe it's because I put my feet up more than everyone else."

She was grinning. "Valid, but I think he just likes playing tricks on people."

"Yeah, I thought that, too. And I do - really, I don't expect anything. But I can't shake the... I can't dislike the attention. Does that make sense?"

"He teases you more than everyone else... and even though sometimes he's a stupid jerk, he's still a stupid jerk to you, specifically."

"Exactly."

"Bit masochistic."

Iain snorted. "Being friends with you lot is inherently masochistic. The pranks hardly make it worse."

"Oi! I can make them worse. Greg doesn't do it alone, you know."

"I'll switch the coffee for dirt."

"You wouldn't dare."

He shrugged. "Step up the pranks, and we'll see what happens. Might wanna start bringing your own coffee to work, though."

Sally looked indignant. Coffee was sacred. and every Yarder in their division knew it. "Fine - no change. I can't afford to buy the fancy stuff every time I want a cup."

"You could just drink tea like normal people. It's fairly inexpensive."

"Now you sound like Daniel. He's always harping on about the effectiveness of things, and how I should cut back on my caffeine intake before it gives me heart damage."

"Well, he is a medical professional. Might wanna trust him."

"He's head of forensics. He can tell me about the problems caffeine causes after I explode."

"Defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

Sally held up her hands. "Then put my body on display, and let me be a warning to others, but for god's sake, don't touch my coffee."

They laughed and turned again, as slowly as possible, rounding the block that encircled New Scotland Yard. It was a crisp but beautiful autumn day, and neither of them particularly wanted to get back to work. Without Lestrade around to whip the office workers, paperwork and files moved from hand to hand at an absurdly sluggish pace. It was almost impossible to get anything done without waiting a ridiculously long time for it to clear each department.

Iain stopped and looked up a the rotating sign that marked the entrance of their building and then back to Sally. "Do you wanna go grab a drink?"

She blinked, slightly puzzled. "Now?"

"Yeah, why not? It's not like they'll miss us."

She considered it, even though she knew he was right. "Yeah. Actually - yeah, I do."

Iain grinned as they turned around, marching back the way they'd come. It was a perfectly logical decision, the longer he thought about it. Greg was on holiday, and they were taking the afternoon off. Where the boss went - the workers would follow!


End file.
